Count of Monte Chase-O Fortune, like the moon you are changeable, always waxing or waning; hateful NIMBYs first oppress and then soothe as fancy takes it; poverty and powerbut Hot Momma Hudamelts them like ice.

Fate – monstrous and empty, you whirling wheel, stand malevolent, well-being is vain and always fades to nothing, shadowed and veiled you plague Ike Shehadeh too; now through trickery, I bring my bare back to your NIMBY villainy.

Fate, in health and in virtue, is against me, driven on and weighted down, always enslaved. So at this hour without delay pluck the vibrating string; since Fate strikes down the strong man, everyone weep with me Mayoose’s CA-BLT